Vomiting Stress

You know that feeling you get when you're driving in your four door family car with two dirty car seats in the back, mess on the floor, your mother-in-law sitting in the passenger seat with the chair down and her oxygen blasting because you've just spent two exhausting hours at the Instacare after-hours clinic and now you're trying to find the pharmacy where her antibiotic is, in a town way too far away from your nice warm bed where your husband is peacefully watching Ultimate Fighting alone because your two cranky, sick children have already been snuggled in their beds hours ago and he is relaxing, not worrying about how you are going to pay for her prescription, let alone your bills for this month or how you are going to store all the extra furniture that is now sitting in the KITCHEN from moving his mother into your home and not having anywhere else to put things and then you look over and see a car full of BYU students rockin' out in their singles car on a Tuesday night without a care in the world and even laughing as they look over and see you staring and then you slowly turn away, your involved smile fading and you realizing how old you have become and how much stress and responsibility you have on your shoulders??

Yeah, that's how I felt last night. I'm glad I'm not alone in that one.

I won't even go into how I was 100 feet from my exit on the freeway, so close I could taste it and ready to be SO finished with this stressful, demanding day (that started with a sleepless night and a third day of vomiting from the baby) when a gorgeous cop with a southern, Georgian accent pulled me over...
because adding that to the mix would just be WAY too coincidental.
(And even more exhausting).